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Updated: May 1, 2025
"The Honer'ble Ojoy, if you please," answered Patsy, with a laugh that bordered on hysteria. The hardware man nodded, his eyes reading her face. "You were quite right to turn him down," he asserted. "It was the only thing to do," responded the girl, wondering how he knew. "But Boglin is a dangerous man," resumed West. "Look out for him. Miss Doyle."
"This is very interesting, I'm sure," remarked Patsy; "but our paper doesn't go much into local politics, Mr. Boglin, and I'm very busy to-day." "Honer'ble Ojoy Boglin," he said, correcting her; but he did not take the hint to leave. Patsy picked up her pencil as if to resume her work, while he eyed her with a countenance baffled and uncertain.
"I am the Honer'ble Ojoy Boglin, miss," he replied, dwelling lovingly upon the "Honer'ble." "I have not had the honor of your acquaintance," said she, deciding she did not like her visitor. "What is your business, please?" The Hon. Ojoy coughed. Then he suddenly remembered he was in the presence of a lady and took off his hat. Next he slid slowly into the vacant chair at the end of the table.
Skeelty dared not carry out this threat, for fear of a lawsuit, but his men, who had urged the matter of Smith's discharge upon their manager, were of the class that seeks revenge at any cost. At this juncture Ojoy Boglin, Skeelty's partner and the owner of all the pine forest around Royal, had become the enemy of the newspaper and was aware of the feeling among the workmen.
Below the drawing were the words: "Mr. Skimton Clark, cowward." A few other local hits were concluded by a picture of Hon. Ojoy Boglin shaking his fist at Mr. Skeelty, who held a package of money in his grasp labeled "insurance." Below was the simple legend: "O Joy!"
Ojoy could be conciliated; Thursday Smith discharged; or the girls could abandon their journalistic enterprise altogether. Such alternatives were mortifying to consider, but his girls must be protected from harm at any cost.
No respectable candidate for office would attempt to buy the support of a newspaper, and I advise you to change the wording on your card. Instead of 'Honorable' it should read 'Dishonorable' Ojoy Boglin. Good day, sir!" Mr. Boglin's face turned white with rage. He half rose from his seat, but sat down again with a vicious snarl.
Bob West glanced at the printing office, which was directly in line with the explosion; then he cast a shrewd look into the white face of Thursday Smith; but the old hardware merchant merely muttered under his breath something about Ojoy Boglin and shook his head determinedly when questioned by his fellow villagers. Interest presently centered in the damage that had been done.
"I have, sir!" declared Patsy, raising her head to frown discouragingly upon the Honer'ble Ojoy. "Mr. Skeelty is acting in a very disagreeable manner. He has not only boycotted our paper and refused to pay for the subscriptions he engaged, but I understand he is encouraging his workmen to annoy the Millville people, and especially this printing office." "Well durn Skeelty!" ejaculated Mr.
Take your choice, girl either to make good money out o' this campaign, or be run out of town, neck an' crop! It's up to you to decide." "In thirty seconds," said Patsy, her face as white as was Boglin's, "I shall ring this bell to summon my men to throw you out." The Honer'ble Ojoy slowly rose and put on his hat. "Look out!" he said warningly. "I will," snapped Patsy.
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